


Election Day

by zarrati



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 06:38:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarrati/pseuds/zarrati
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fic prompt: The Knope-Wyatt family gathered together the night Ben wins the Congressional election, the night Leslie becomes Governor, and the night one of them becomes President.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Election Day

**2018**

It’s the oddest sense of déjà vu, being back in the Jermaine Jackson Memorial Ballroom surrounded by friends, volunteers, and loved ones. He doesn’t remember his hands shaking this much the last time around, but maybe that was because he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Leslie would win.

He doesn’t have that kind of faith in himself at the moment. 

He’s not sure that to do right now. The polls are closed, so there’s no last minute campaigning opportunities, nothing to focus on to ease his racing mind. All he can do is wait.

His hand doesn’t stop shaking until another, softer, gentler hand slips into his own, anchoring him.

“Don’t be so nervous,” she says to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. “You’ve got this.”

“The polls had me and Hartwell neck and neck. It’s impossible to know for sure.”

She just gives him that smile. That smile that tells him he can do anything. That smile that makes any situation seem a little less terrible.

“I know. Trust me, I know.”

And later, when Perd Hapley says his name and the room erupts with cheers and applause, his children confused but excited all the same, jumping at his feet, he pulls her to him in a deep kiss.

When her lips leave his, they form that smile again, and he wonders how he could have possibly doubted her for even a second.

**2028**

It almost doesn’t feel right  _not_  being at the Jermaine Jackson Memorial Ballroom tonight. She had wanted to be there, fought for it, actually, but the reality was that there are just too many people.

Too many people out here supporting  _her_. 

But it would be in Pawnee, though. That much she fought for, so her sexy man-genius campaign manager and husband found the largest hall in Pawnee and rented it out.

It’s packed to capacity.

She almost thinks that even if she doesn’t win, it’ll have been worth it.

But no, she wants to win,  _needs_  to win. She can’t let all of these people down. 

The triplets are off with Oliver, Leslie, John, and little Jack–who’s not so little anymore–doing whatever it is that teenagers do nowadays. She still doesn’t fully understand youth culture.

But they’re happy. They love her, support her, and are happy, and she can’t ask for much more in life.

Except to win this election. She’d like that very much.

Ben’s off talking to one of the countless news outlets that are bombarding him with questions about the campaign, and she can’t help but be drawn to him. He’s so different from the man who could barely string two sentences together when put in front of an audience. 

He’s firm, he’s direct, he’s articulate.

He’s  _hers_.

God, when this is all over she’s gonna do some very sexy things to him.

With a nod, he ends the conversation and makes his way back over to her.

“You are  _very_  hot. Do you know that?”

He gives her a look that says ‘this is not the time nor place’ but his lips still quirk.

“Well, everything’s looking good. Voter turnout was great, you were doing well in the polls. I guess all we can do now is wait.”

Waiting is always the worst. Ann jokingly offers to take her boxing again, but she doesn’t think she could leave this room even if she tried. Her eyes are glued to the screen.

There’s a ringing in her ears almost immediately after the anchor forms the L to her first name. Everything happens in slow motion. The balloons fall from the ceiling, confetti is being thrown from all directions, voices scream in victory.

Stephen and Wesley both lift her and spin her around when they hug her, Sonia almost in tears as she claps and gives her mother a kiss on her cheek.

And Ben, perfect, wonderful Ben who gave up the chance to have all of this for himself, pulls her into the tightest hug imaginable, kisses her with more love than she thought she’d ever receive. 

When he hands her the acceptance speech, she doesn’t even ask this time around if he wrote one for her concession. He didn’t, she knows he didn’t, and he never would.

**2040**

Cameras fly around on their own now. They have for a while, but neither of them are quite used to it. 

And, boy, are there a lot of cameras flying around tonight.

The rally is in Pawnee, because no matter what, no matter how big the audience, how important the election, Pawnee will always be home. Literally thousands upon thousands are gathered on the grounds that house the now annual Harvest Festival. It seems only fitting.

Sonia is on her phone, getting the most updated polling results, her brow furrowed in concentration. She had helped with a majority of the campaigning responsibilities this time around, and she’s damn good at it.  

Wesley and Stephen are on the opposite side of the makeshift stage, chatting amicably with the people around them, but you could still see the anxious anticipation in their eyes.

“Hey, so I think it’s time for another speech to rally the troops,” Sonia says as she makes her way back over to them. “It’s pretty close right now, so another blurb would really be great for a news spot”

Leslie smiles and looks at her daughter. “When did you get to be so smart?”

“Must be genetic,” Sonia answers with a laugh before her phone goes off again. “Yeah, okay, so the cameras are ready whenever you are.”

Ben sticks his hand out for her Leslie to take and wiggles his fingers. “What do you think? You ready?”

But they both know no matter what happens, no matter who wins, it’s all been worth it. They have their friends, their children, their supporters, and each other. It’s all led to this moment, and they couldn’t ask for anything more. 

“Yeah,” she says as she threads her fingers through his. “I’m ready.”


End file.
